


prince charmed

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [39]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Awkward Derek, First Kiss, Getting Together, Knight Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Nerd Derek, Pining, Pining Derek, Prince Derek, Shirtless Stiles, implied mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Derek's an awkward nerdy prince who keeps getting distracted by shirtless knight Stiles. Honestly, does he evenowna tunic?





	prince charmed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [half-baked-cat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=half-baked-cat).



> For the prompt: "Do you even own a shirt?"  
> I don't really know how exactly this ended up being a royal, historical fic with nerdy prince Derek and shirtless knight Stiles, but it did.

"Do you even own a tunic?"

The question was spoken dryly, Derek's voice practically dripping with condescension as he wet the tip of his index finger to ease in the turning of the page of the large tome he was reading. It was extremely intriguing, a detailed account of the life of one of the more obscure members of his ancestral tree which stretched back for millennia.

It was a temperate spring day, the beams of sun that poked through the shroud of fluffy white clouds warm but not at all stifling, a welcome change in weather after the cold bitterness of winter. The gentle breeze that originated from the west stirred the branches of the autumn cherry trees and pink dogwoods whose delicate buds were already beginning to blossom.

With the last of winter's snow melting away to reveal vibrant green grass boasting burgeoning puschkinia and tulips and white irises, Derek's sisters had insisted they lunch in the courtyard of the castle. While he had initially rolled his eyes, already absorbed in his tome, Derek had finally relented under the weight of his older sister's disapproving glare, though he brought his tome with him.

His sisters' ladies-in-waiting had arranged a cozy spot for the three of them in the shade of the courtyard walls, beneath the delicately blooming branches of a grand tulip magnolia. With the assistance of a few other servants, the ladies-in-waiting had brought out a few chaise lounges along with several additional cushions for the trio royal siblings.

A table of refreshments had been carried into the courtyard as well, ornate china platters full of cucumber sandwiches and an assortment of fruits along with various tarts, both sweet and savory, and fancy pastries. Bottles of wine were arranged on the table among intricate, ruby encrusted goblets along with steaming pots of tea and hand painted teacups.

His sisters had taken up residence on one chaise lounge, delighting in the most recent of court gossip, whispering about the latest scandals of other royal families. They tittered behind their hands as they sipped their wine, though their laughter echoed off the ancient stone walls of the courtyard nonetheless, both of them sorely lacking in subtly.

Derek, on the other hand opted to focus on his book, not truly caring whether or not the Duchess of Lake's gown at the last ball had been gaudy and repulsive or what lord was proving unfaithful to his wife with one of the nannies. He did not partake in any wine, either, as it was much too early for him, preferring to keep his wits about him as he enjoyed a cup of earl grey tea.

Unfortunately, it was rather difficult to focus on the words written on the page when Laura's raucous laugh was not the only sound reverberating in the courtyard. The sound of blades clashing drowned out the sweet birdsong of the cardinal perched in an ornamental pear tree, the thunk of arrows hitting wood echoing dully.

Alas, the courtyard had already been in use when Derek's sisters had dragged him outside with them, a group of knights sparring and practicing in the warm sunshine. They had graciously volunteered to vacate the courtyard in order for the royals to enjoy their leisure time without any annoyances, but Laura had dismissed the offer as ridiculous.

Raised to be diplomatic, Laura had simply suggested that both parties make use of the courtyard, the head of the knights bowing his head in both thanks and appreciation. After all, the courtyard was plenty big enough. Though apparently not big enough to spare Derek from another distraction.

His name was Stiles Stilinski, the only son of the highly esteemed Sheriff John Stilinski and a rather promising young knight himself, already proving himself a devoted, capable warrior. At only nineteen years of age, he was one of the youngest knights in service to the Hale family and one of the best they had ever witnessed.

His skill with a blade was on par with those who had spent the entirety of their lives perfecting the ancient art, the young knight taking after his father in that respect. He was also revered for his sharp mind and keen eye for strategy, not merely a dumb brute like so many other knights that Derek had encountered in his own life.

Barely five months prior, Stiles had been appointed to his new position of castle guard and Derek had been captivated ever since. Which was why when Stiles crossed the courtyard to retrieve a misfired arrow that had embedded itself in the earth, Derek had unthinkingly asked the grossly inappropriate question that caused the knight to pause.

Stiles ran a hand through his messy hair, brushing a few stray locks off of his sweat-beaded forehead, and glanced down at his own chest that was indeed bare. His leanly muscled body was sheened with sweat, his skin the most gorgeous porcelain Derek had ever seen, dotted with dark moles similar to the ones on Stiles' cheeks.

In the center of his chest, there was a dark patch of hair and lower down on his torso was a line of hair leading down from his navel to the laces of his breeches, Derek having to force himself not to let his eyes wander. He reminded himself that he was a prince and as such was expected to behave in a manner befitting of a royal of the esteemed Hale family.

"Well, I apologize if I have offended your delicate sensibilities with my scandalous state of undress, your highness," Stiles announced with a curtsy that was nothing if not mocking, lowering his chin as he crossed his ankles and bobbed theatrically. Straightening with a flourish, he continued on, "But I am afraid it is somewhat necessary. Despite its obvious benefits, my armor is not very comfortable and it is rather warm out today."

Derek immediately felt his cheeks flush with heat, cursing himself for being so stupid as to insult one of those who risked their own lives to protect those of the Hale family. His sisters burst into laughter, not bothering to cover their mouths with their hands as they delighted in their brother's embarrassment, their outburst drawing a few concerned looks from the other knights across the courtyard.

He did not bother even glaring at his traitorous sisters, too preoccupied with racking his brain for some way to apologize to the knight who was tugging the arrow out of the ground, frowning down at the projectile. This time when Stiles straightened, it was Derek who spoke, nervously blurting, "I apologize for any offense my thoughtless words may have wrought. I have merely noticed that nearly every time I make your acquaintance, you are not fully dressed."

And it was true. Derek had only seen him fully dressed once in all the times they had seen one another.

The first time they had met, Stiles had been clad in only his braies. He and three other nights, Derek's personal guards Boyd, Erica, and Isaac, had stormed into Derek's chambers in the wee hours of the morning, their swords drawn.

There had been reports of an intruder in the castle earlier that day, all of the guards still wary even after the lone intruder was apprehended. When a crash had sounded from Derek's chambers, the guards who had been stationed outside the doors to his chambers had rushed in, Stiles hot on their heels.

It had proved to be nothing more than one of the cats that freely roamed the castle knocking a bowl of fruit off of Derek's desk, scattering grapes across the stone floor. Once they were certain that Derek was in no danger, they had lowered their swords and returned to their posts, Stiles mumbling under his breath about going back to sleep.

Once the other knights had left, Derek had pulled Boyd aside in order to ask the name of the unfamiliar, undressed knight who had followed them into his chambers. With a small smirk, Boyd had explained that the knight's name was Stiles Stilinski, laughing aloud when Derek wrinkled his nose at the name 'Stiles'.

From that night on, Derek had been intrigued by the fiery eyed knight with the constellations of moles.

Similar to the first time they had made each other's acquaintance, the next several times Derek encountered Stiles, the knight was in no way, shape, or form fully dressed. And every time, without fail, Derek found himself flushed bright red with embarrassment, unable to tear his eyes away from Stiles, no matter how unbecoming it was.

He had caught Stiles bathing in the natural hot springs just outside the castle walls when he had gone for a dip himself. He had nearly fainted when Stiles had stood up in the steaming water and Derek had glimpsed what the trail of hair on Stiles' lower abdomen led to.

Derek did not see Stiles for two weeks after he scurried back to the castle and barricaded himself in his chambers, too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye. Of course, when he did see Stiles again he was without a tunic, the knight explaining that while assisting one of the chefs in the kitchen his tunic was stained by some spilled wine.

Over the course of the following months, the pattern continued, Derek never witnessing Stiles even attempt to actually wear anything to cover his torso. That is, until the banquet.

In order to celebrate Derek's twenty sixth birthday, their mother had thrown an extravagant banquet, inviting all of the nobles of their kingdom. And while Derek would have preferred spending his birthday lounging in his bed chambers with a book and a glass of sweet strawberry wine, he indulged his mother and attended the banquet.

Amongst the various lords and ladies and dukes and duchesses of the court clad in their lavish suits and ridiculously frilly dresses with their shining diamond rings and emerald necklaces, there was one person stood out, enthralling Derek. It was Stiles, of course.

He had been wearing his armor, standing guard by the large banquet table where Derek's mother and uncle were laughing together, his face stony as he scanned the room. When his eyes had landed on Derek, he had offered a gentle smile of acknowledgement as he dipped his head in a respectful bob.

Derek had been so bewitched by Stiles' brilliant smile that he bumped into someone, spilling his goblet of wine all over the silk of his cloak. The spilled wine was the least of his worries as the man he had collided with pulled a dagger out of his pocket and tried to stab Derek.

Terrified, Derek had let out a loud cry as he scrambled around for a weapon, tossing his half empty goblet at the assassin's head as he slipped on the puddle of wine on the floor and tumbled to the ground. Fortunately, with the room full of royal guards, the assassin was captured a few moments later, Stiles standing by Derek's side as he wrestled the dagger away from the other man.

That had been a week ago and Derek had not seen Stiles since, kicking himself for greeting the knight with a judgemental accusation rather than a sincere expression of gratitude. As much as he adored his books and bestiaries, he, himself, was awful with words.

"If you two will excuse us, Cora and I are going to take a stroll," Laura announced, drawing both Derek and Stiles' attention as she stood up from her seat on the chaise lounge, Cora following suit. With a knowing smirk directed at Derek, she teasingly added on, "You know how fond Cora is of the curly haired guard of yours, dear brother."

Cora let out a theatrical gasp and smacked Laura in the arm as they began walking across the courtyard field, Cora's pinks tinged a noticeable pink, Laura's words holding more than a grain of truth. Laura's ever faithful pack of pugs that had been slumbering in the shade around her chaise lounge trotted after her, save for one who meandered over to Stiles, sniffing the toe of his boot.

Beaming down at the snorting dog, Stiles bent over to scratch behind its floppy ears, letting out a hiss of pain as he winced noticeably. He straightened quickly, pressing a hand to the bandage on his side that Derek had not noticed before, too distracted by Stiles' sweat slick muscles.

Instantly concerned, Derek closed his book and set it aside, raising his brows in alarm. His eyes darting between Stiles' hand and his face, Derek wondered aloud, "Are you alright? Are you injured?"

"Just a scratch," Stiles assured him with a bright smile, rubbing his thumb over the white bandage on his side. Shrugging casually, he elaborated, "From the banquet."

It was Derek's turn to gasp. A cloud of guilt hung over him, his mind replaying the memory of that night: the menacing glint of the would-be assassin's dagger, the sudden appearance of Stiles standing over him, the ensuing scuffle between Stiles and the dagger wielding assassin.

He tried desperately to formulate some sort of apology but all that left his mouth was a pathetic whine. Swallowing heavily, Derek made another attempt, this time managing to choke out, "I... I am so sorry. You were injured...protecting me..."

"My lord, there is no reason to apologize," Stiles claimed, stepping around the pug, who was now chasing after a bright yellow butterfly, to take a seat beside Derek on the chaise lounge. Reaching over to pluck a flower petal off of Derek's shoulder, Stiles continued, asserting, "The greatest tragedy would be if you were injured, your highness. Or worse."

Derek nodded, looking down at his hands that lay idle in his lap. He did not know what he had been thinking, or rather hoping, well aware that Stiles' protection of and devotion to him was simply because he was employed to provide both. There were no deeper motives.

And yet a moment later, he heard Stiles' voice state, "Although, there is one way you could ease my ailings."

He immediately turned to Stiles, blindly agreeing, "Anything. Name your price and I shall pay it."

"A kiss," Stiles said simply, a wide grin on his lips. "They are suitable for both expressing gratitude and easing ailments. I assume one as diplomatic as yourself would be quite amenable to killing two birds with one stone, so to speak."

His face hotter than the sun, Derek could only nod, not bothering to fully process Stiles' words enough to object. And when Stiles leaned forward and pressed their lips together, Derek knew he would no longer need to read books about stalwart heroes as he has found one of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)! Maybe send me a prompt or two if you'd like.


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